


Sunday morning

by call_me_tina_b



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_me_tina_b/pseuds/call_me_tina_b
Summary: I literally woke up today and starting writing this.





	Sunday morning

**Author's Note:**

> I literally woke up today and starting writing this.

Sometimes I wake up before Patrick. It’s rare but when I do I lie there and stare at his face. My eyes trace every curve and contour of his beautiful face. I also listen to the rhythm of his breath. He breathes in slowly and lets out a quick exhale through his nose. Sometimes, when he has allergies or is really tired, he breathes through his mouth. Somehow, I even find this fucking adorable. 

On our 4 month anniversary, I talked to my mom about my long string of bad luck in relationships and not knowing what I did to deserve it. As I lay here looking at Patrick, I wonder what did I do to deserve him? I know that when he comes to bed exhausted it’s because he is working so hard at the store -- our store. He cleans, does all the numbers, reviews inventory, restocks… What would I do without him? Everyday I try to show him that I don’t take him for granted. His appreciative and generous spirit has rubbed off on me. As a spoiled rich brat most of my life, it’s still hard. I know he sees my efforts though. 

He sees so much in me. Things that I don’t know are there, mostly things that I try to keep hidden -- good and bad. He knows that even though I will outwardly complain and demonstrate annoyance, I will do anything for the people I care about. Talk to Ted on behalf of Alexis, plan Jocelyn’s baby shower with no notice, perform the “number” with my mom. He also knows that I continue to be uncompromising when it comes to product placement, decor, and all things aesthetic. The great couch debate when we moved in together months ago will go down in history -- our history. 

Still, he loves me. And, mama Oprah, do I love him. Outside of my family, I never thought I would meet someone who could take my shit and give it right back. There is Stevie, of course. I always knew our  _ situation  _ was temporary. I felt gut wrenchingly horrible that I hurt her. I’m forever grateful that she forgave me and we are still friends -- best friends. The thing about Patrick is that he can be snarky with me but there is that softness, too. It’s sarcasm wrapped in cashmere. And I just want to snuggle in it -- in him -- all day long. 

Because of him, my anxiety has definitely decreased. I have fewer panic attacks. He has talked me down from more ledges than I can count. Small ledges -- my remineralizing toothpaste from Japan was out of stock for months to large ledges -- one month we made 0 profit. It’s scary to admit how much I need him. Needing him means I can’t survive on my own. Needing him means if he leaves me I won’t be able to function. Needing him means I can’t fuck this up. 

He tells me how much he needs me, too. How before we met, he felt so lost and without direction or goals. How after Rachel, he thought he was doomed to be alone forever. How he struggles with depression. He says that being with me gives him reason to live and he has a sense of purpose and meaning now. Knowing that I, David Rose, can do this for the person I love more than anything in the world… 

Uh oh, tears are trying to escape. Must not cry. Come on, keep it together. Oh shit, Patrick is starting to stir, maybe he’s just getting more comfortable. Don’t wake up, please don’t wake up. He’s starting to reach out for me, he does this sometimes, before opening his eyes. Crap, crap, crap. 

“Good morning, David,” he says while placing his hand on my waist and then opens his eyes.

Oh no, I feel wetness on my face and on my pillow. 

He opens his eyes wider and pulls me closer to him. 

“What is wrong? Did you have a bad dream? Is everyone okay?”

“Everything and everyone is fine. I have been lying here just thinking about you and us,” this is so embarrassing. “I love you and I’m just being awkward.”

He holds me and I put my head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat is like white noise for me. 

“David, please don’t ever change.”

“That’s highly unlikely.” 

He gives me a squeeze and kisses my forehead. Sarcasm wrapped in cashmere, my Patrick, my forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up before my lady (I'm a lady loving lady) and listening to her breath inspired this piece. I seriously can't get enough of David and Patrick. And Dan Levy is my gay man crush. My lady knows this and is okay with it, lol. I'm sure I'll keep the stories coming.


End file.
